A Broken Spirit
by redhairedelf8
Summary: Tara is losing it, but she doesn't tell anyone. Take a look inside her journal and see for yourself.
1. Chapter 1

(I own nothing! The rights of the character Tara Knowles belong to that mad genius Kurt Sutter)

A broken spirit

By: Tara Knowles

I am what I am

But not what I wish to be

I've been living my life on a chain

Since I was sixteen.

Haunted by a lover,

Hunted by another

I'm left with no protection

Not even my own mother.

To say that I'm truly loved

Is a bold thing to speak

My departure years ago

Left me hated in disbelief

Sometimes I still run

But danger follows

When I fight back,

My pride, not me, is what the world swallows

I'm alone on the outside

But inside has become occupied

The voices ring loud

Against the thunder of my own storm cloud.

I'm alone

I'm afraid

But still I survive the road

With each passing day

My allies have turned their cheek

The viper has lashed back

I look at her and see the future

And realize, for once, that will be me

My lover has killed

For my hand

So much blood had spilled

For rule of the land

My head was wanted

But I was spared

The once sunny days

Have been replaced with cold, cruel nights in the air.

Now here I stand

At my lovers right hand

Our path laid at our feet

My heart bleeding

My courage retreating

But I will not accept defeat

Still here I cry

Yet another night

Begging for death to find me

For a broken spirit

Cannot survive

The dangerous task

Of Anarchy life

THE END

( I know the rhythm is off, but I thought it sounded good. Comment and tell me what you think. I'm pretty sure I've gotten Tara's feelings down. So enjoy!)


	2. Chapter 2

(Hi. This next entre takes place just before Tara's rise to SAMCRO power and right at the beginning of season five. I know it's early, but we can all tell were her life is going. I DO NOT OWN SONS OF ANARCHY!)

_Dear journal,_

_It's been a while. So much has happened since we last spoke. But my position in SAMCRO, as well with Jax, is hanging by a thread._

_All I wanted to do was go to Oregon to check out the new job waiting for me. And what do I get? Some psycho's in a van trying to kill me! I must admit though, I've never been more terrified in my life. In the blink of an eye, I thought my time in this horrible place was over. But, and just as fast, my life was changed. I may have made it out alive, thanks to Jax, but my hand suffered._

_And to add insult to injury, Jax's junky ex wife Wendy shows up, looks me in the eye and says she's going to get to know Abel whether I like it or not. Has she forgotten that it was because of her Abel almost died?! Had she forgotten that I saved her precious little boy?! Has she forgotten that no one deserves a second chance just because they've cleaned up their life?! From being a doctor all these years, I know that relapse is 80% effective in former users. The only thing keeping me from clawing her eyes out was my broken hand._

_Every time I look at this cast, I'm reminded of what this life has done to me. This job in Oregon was my way out. Charming has had that effect on me for years. But the first time I left, I wasn't running from the city or SAMCRO. I was running from that blonde haired man that held my bleeding heart in his hands. When I came back, I was surprised at the situation of Abel. Who would have thought the self-proclaimed family time bomb that was truly a bloodthirsty biker gang would need me so much. I not only did my job, but I remember looking into the glass cage of that baby fighting for his life, and I realized that I needed to stay. Now, years later, I'm raising that very child as my offspring; teaching him right from wrong, protecting him, providing for him and everything. Also, along with my own bloodline baby Thomas. But how in the world can I teach my children right from wrong when there father rides around on a Harley holding a gun in one hand and a knife in another?_

_I thought this time around would be a perfect round two to my life as an Old Lady. Jax gave me a second chance, so why shouldn't I give this life one as well? But with Madame 'Hell-on-heels' Gemma breathing down my neck, I'm going to need more that a few therapy sessions to show this place that I'm not that helpless girl anymore. I'm still metaphorically helpless, but not a little girl anymore._


End file.
